


The 47th

by sloganeer



Category: The West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets up off the mat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 47th

"Bram!"

A head pops into his office. "Yeah?"

"What do you know about the California 47th? And talk fast, I won't be on hold forever."

When Josh finally looks up from his desk, Bram is standing in the doorway, a little lost. He's still getting used to the pace of a national, but he hasn't screwed up yet, and that's saying something.

"California 47th. Traditionally Republican." Bram clears his throat. "I know a guy who has already lost it once is back in the race."

"I heard that, too." If this were four years ago, Josh would be calling for a plane ticket. Maybe they can do this one long distance. "Can you get me his number?"

"Sure." Bram pulls a notebook out of his jacket. "I'll put together a card for the Congressman."

"No." Josh holds up a hand. "This is just me. I need to make this call myself."

Bram nods, and the phone clicks off hold. Josh shoos him away.

It's more than an hour before Josh gets off the phone again. He steps out onto the floor, just stretching his legs, then Bram's head pops up again, out of the crowd. Josh asked for a phone number, but Bram's written up an index card for him -- education, hobbies, family -- all the things Josh is supposed to know. He grabs the closest free phone.

"So, who is this guy?" Bram asks.

"He's, uh," Josh pauses, glances around the office. "He's my best friend."

"You don't have your best friend's phone number?"

"Believe me, it's not for lack of trying."

The phone picks up. "Seaborn for Congress."

Some might say that the candidate answering his own phone is a bad omen, but they don't know Sam.

"You could've just called," Josh says, smiling. "You don't have to get elected to Congress to get my attention."

"I don't know," Sam says. "Sometimes it feels like it."

"My mom says the same thing. So, I'm calling you, Sam. You've got my attention."

-

In a hotel bathroom, Josh yells into his phone at their man in Oregon.

"We don't need to like each other, Barry. We don't need to have a conversation. Just gimme the numbers."

There's a knock, and the door opens because everyone knows what Josh is actually doing in the bathroom. He holds up a hand, and Bram stops just inside. Barry continues his whining on the other end of the phone.

"Then what the hell did we hire you for?" Josh snaps his phone shut and rubs a hand over his neck. "Tell me you have Oregon's numbers."

Bram doesn't say anything about Oregon. He doesn't say anything at all.

Looking up from his seat in the bathtub, Josh asks, "Is the Democratic Party paying you to withhold information, too?"

"California," Bram says. He passes over a folded piece of pink paper. The night has been numbers and staffers and soundbites and speeches, but Bram has just one job: get the exits for the 47th and get them to Josh.

"Finally. Some good news," Josh says, and he jumps up to get it. But, instead of the numbers he's looking forward to, there are just two words on the pink paper, written in black ink.

"He lost?"

"CNN just called it."

Josh tries to pace in the tiny bathroom. "But he was just up an hour ago."

"They can count a lot of polls in an hour."

"OK. I've got to..." He fumbles his phone to the floor before he can get it open. "I've got to call Sam."

Bram tries to escape, but Josh grabs him at the door. "Call Oregon."

"Gary?"

"Barry. And jump up and down on him. I want some good news."

On the phone, a girl answers, "Seaborn for Congress," though CNN has already called the race.

"Josh Lyman. Get Sam on the phone."

There's a pause. "Mr. Seaborn isn't taking calls yet."

"I know what he told you, but why don't you tell him that Josh is calling."

Another pause, but she's still on the phone. Josh can hear her breathing.

"Nobody's supposed to go in there," she says. She sounds worried, and Josh regrets being a jerk. Her candidate just lost, she's probably already been yelled at tonight, and now Sam's locked in his office.

"He's writing?" Josh asks.

"I think so."

"OK, here's what we're going to do. Write my name on a piece of paper -- Josh Lyman. Then knock on his door and go inside. Don't say anything, just give Sam the piece of paper. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"I'll wait right here."

Bram brings him the Oregon numbers while Josh is waiting. It's good news. He brings the California numbers, too.

"Calling for congratulations before your guy wins is tacky, Josh, even for you."

"Sam."

"I'm fine," he says, and sounds it, too.

"I'm looking at the numbers, Sam. It's too close. We can get an appeal."

"I don't want it that way, Josh. Not this time."

"But next time?"

"Next time, we'll do it together."


End file.
